


i'm out of touch, i'm out of love

by dragonharps (StarlightNyx)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awkwardness, Crushes, F/F, Fluff, Jealousy, One Shot, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, platonic stevenat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3516809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightNyx/pseuds/dragonharps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I'm home,” Natasha calls to an empty house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm out of touch, i'm out of love

**Author's Note:**

> title from lego house - ed sheeran.

"“I'm home,” Natasha calls to an empty house that she really should leave now that S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised, HYDRA is still out there, and everyone knows who she truly is. Minor details.

Except it _isn't_ empty, because a feminine voice (one that Natasha refuses to recognize) yells back, “What time do you call this?”

Sharon Carter—that's right, the Sharon Carter, niece of the legendary Peggy Carter, who is _supposed_ _to be on a date with_ _Steve_ now—strides out into her living room in a sundress. Natasha opens her mouth to say, “What are you doing in my living room?” but nothing comes out because of Sharon's fucking _smile_.

It's blindingly white and just—pure. Pure is the right word to describe Sharon Carter, AKA Agent Thirteen, AKA the cute “nurse" that Steve was supposed to get the number of. Even if she's pretty great with a gun, she's also pretty... innocent for someone who's definitely killed before. Natasha doesn't think anyone in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s killed as much as herself, though.

“What?" Sharon asks, still grinning. “Can I not be in your house or something?"

Natasha jerks her head to the side, then glares. “Why are you _here_ in the first place? Aren't you supposed to be on a date with Captain America, who is a surprisingly good kisser?”

Carter laughs. “Should I ask how you know that?”

“No,” Natasha says immediately. “No, most definitely not.”

And of course that asshole has to bat her eyelashes and step closer because apparently she's the devil incarnate. "Agent Romanoff, how do you know about Steve's kissing skills?”

Dammit. "We had to go undercover as a couple when HYDRA was on our asses," Natasha grits out. “So why aren't you on a date with him, sharing a smoothie or... something. Whatever it is _couples_ do.”

Her laugh could cure cancer, Natasha thinks a little bitterly as Sharon throws her head back, laughter bubbling from between her lips. “Oh, _g_ _od_ , no. Steve's a friend. Nothing more. Honestly? I don't know if _he_ wants to be more.”

“Do you?” Natasha asks. “'Cause Steve sure was interested in you. I think he was drooling at one point,” she adds, a strange salty taste filling her mouth.

Sharon stares at her for about five seconds before she bursts out into laughter again. “Oh my _g_ _od_ ,” she chokes out, holding up a hand.

Natasha stares at it. “So? I know there are a lot of people who'd love to get a taste of that f _reedom_ —”

Sharon snickers, waving her hand. Natasha can't help but notice how her nails are painted red, white and blue. “Romanoff, _please_. I'm not interested in Steve, really. There's someone else I've liked for, well, a while now.”

“Oh?” Natasha says, cocking her head to the side. “What's he like? What's his name? Is he a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent or is he a HYDRA piece of shit? HYDRA, right. A HYDRA agents seems like just the person you'd fall for, Carter.”

“Romanoff.” Sharon sounds exasperated. “Stop asking questions. First of all, it's a _she_ , not a he, and—what do you _mean_ , a HYDRA agent seems like my type?” She's spluttering, now, and Natasha bites her lip to hold back a smirk. “When did you turn into a teenage girl, Natasha?”

“That's Romanoff to you,” Natasha barks, biting down on a smile. She can count on one hand the people she'd joke with like this. “But... okay then. What's her name? Do I know her?”

Blue eyes flutter at her, a head tilting. A pale hand brushes blonde hair back away from a pink-tinted face, and Sharon steps closer, arms crossed over her chest. She taps her foot on the ground until Natasha glares at it.

“You might," Sharon hums. “You might not.” Then her face breaks out into a grin. “You really think I'm going to tell you, N—sorry, _Romanoff_ _?_ ”

“No," Natasha admits. “I really don't.” Then a possibility comes to mind, and she raises her eyebrows. “Is it Hill?”

Carter raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were smarter than that, Romanoff.”

“I could kill you,” Natasha suggests, and Sharon actually snorts.

“I have no doubt,” she agrees cheerfully. “But really. Okay, if I tell you she's a total badass and can murder people in heels, who do you think of?”

 _Me_ , Natasha thinks, then internally slaps herself because _what the fuck_. “Melinda May?” she guesses, because Agent May is pretty badass herself.

Sharon rolls her eyes, clicking her tongue in an almost patronizing way, and Natasha nearly waves the knives in her pockets at her. “No, genius. Who else?”

“Me?” she asks. Her voice probably quakes a little, which is embarrassing for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest assassin, and her cheeks flood pink. God, what the fuck.

“Better,” Sharon hums, smirking slightly at Natasha's _blush_ , and grips Natasha's shirt to tug her forward and kiss her.

In the back of her mind, Natasha's not completely sure what just happened; then again, she notes, Sharon's a better kisser than Steve. And that's saying something. She's not quite sure how to do the “romance” thing (she's a cold-hearted woman and there's no denying that), but she doesn't particularly care at this point.

So she pulls Sharon a little closer and smiles into her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is romaniwandamaximoff.
> 
> *originally posted 3/10.  
> *edited notes, formatting and summary 7/1. also changed some of the wording.


End file.
